


Finally Here

by darklilcorner



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Night/Day, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Italiano | Italian, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Oneshot, Roses, Translation Available, based on fanart, storybook styling, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9251807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklilcorner/pseuds/darklilcorner
Summary: Yuuri is the King of Night and Viktor is the King of Day. Grateful to the Night for allowing him to rest, Viktor leaves meaningful roses for Yuuri. The roses show how he feels, but Yuuri always returns them...Based on tumblr @beanpots fanart





	1. The Meanings of Roses

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Yuri on Ice Day and Night AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/254624) by beanpots. 



> Based on beanpots.tumblr.com #day and night au
> 
> Watt Pad Italian Translation by maryjinnyjackson [Finalmente Qui](http://my.w.tt/UiNb/zNwU5Mdx1A)

It was funny how everyone seemed to think that the dominion of Day was so vast and grand, when really it was just a small instance of light refracted through an atmosphere—and sometimes the result created life. Truly, it was the ever-reaching province of Night that held the most power. Night held millions of stars, only a few of which bowed to the Day. But while the Night was the universe in the dream of unknown wonders, the Day was lauded for the very simple things it offered.

Warmth. Vibrant colors. Energy in the form of light that turned the faces of all living things upwards to the sky. Pretty things such as flowers. And some flowers had particular meanings, because if it existed for daylight then it was a thing that can be described in the hearts of the beholder.

Viktor started leaving yellow roses at first. It was always so exhausting, being the center of attention and the gravitas of everyone’s world. He appreciated it when the King of Night would sweep in with his cloak of stars and void, moving the world and time into a phase of rest. Viktor only ever saw the Night King from afar, but it was always an amazing event. The yellow roses he left as a token of appreciation on the throne, hoping that when the other King took over from Dusk, he would understand.

It was much to his confusion then, that he found the same yellow roses by his bedside in the morning. They were placed there by order of the Night King—according to Mila his assitant—who would receive the returned roses from a starlight courier.

Yellow turned to orange when Viktor finally was able to see the Night King in all his rich, dark glory. Viktor had been feeling particularly unwilling to be the light in everyone’s eyes that Day. There was an endless stream of demands for his attention and he had gotten lost in throng of the court. Night had swept in and Dusk had set himself up to transfer the throne before Viktor had really understood what was going on.

It was the Viceroy of Dusk, a bronzed man named Phichit, with his delightful cheer calling out across the court that finally alerted Viktor.

The gates of the palace opened and Night swept in. All grace, all serenity, and the rest of Viktor’s courtiers fled at the sight. Viktor could feel his royal guard and assistants tugging at his own auric robes; they insisted that he had to leave now. This wasn’t proper to be present when the Night took the throne.

From closer than he had ever been before, Viktor saw the fair, flawless beauty that was Yuuri. His cheekbones were dusted in silver, his silken black hair crowned in an ever-moving constellation of stars.

Before Viktor was done absorbing this new found wonder, the palace doors closed on him.

Orange roses meant passion. Viktor had never really felt such a thing before, but he decided to call it passion.

To his chagrin, he found the orange roses back at his bedside when he awoke.

The Prince of Dawn had a lot to say about Viktor’s widely varying emotions. Dawn was loud, unforgiving, and absolutely insistent that Viktor just needed to _get over it_. Viktor would if he could, but he would go from overwhelmingly enthusiastic about the coming of Night, and then in the depths of despair at the presence of returned roses at his bedside.

It wasn’t until he found himself in a conversation with the Viceroy of Dusk that Viktor realized he had been sending the wrong color roses. Phichit was very happy to let Viktor know all about the pretty blush that would appear on Yuuri’s cheeks every time he would pick up a rose. How Yuuri would hold the flower all Night, conducting the court ceremonies with it. How, when the Prince of Dawn would show up then Yuuri would frown, because it meant the rose had to go back to the Day.

Viktor left red roses, an entire bouquet of them, all tied up with baby’s breath flowers to compliment. Phichit promised to tell Viktor everything about Yuuri when the Night King got them.

The palace, all glass and jewels that complimented the hours of Night and Day, was just starting to twinkle in the rosy hues of Dawn when Viktor arrived back. He was very early, and there was really no point in being this hasty, mostly because the Prince of Dawn would be very upset to have his time cut shorter than it already was – poor Yurio.

But the bouquet had not been at his bedside when he had awoken, so Viktor felt eager. He wanted to see if Yurio knew anything about the Night proceedings.

However, it wasn’t Prince Yurio who met him.

Clad in starlight and endless darkness, the King of Night still held court. The bouquet of red roses lay gently on his lap.

Viktor did not hesitate or veer. Both Night and Dawn courtiers bowed out of his way as he hastened to the dais. Yuuri blushed and gripped the bouquet tightly, but his soft brown eyes never left Viktor’s intent gaze. At the foot of the throne, Viktor reached for the very thing he had dreamed about for so many revolutions of time. He grabbed Yuuri’s hand, so perfect and tender, and brought it to his lips. “Finally.”

Yuuri got up from his seat, roses set aside, and met Viktor where he stood. “Mm,” he nodded. “Finally.”

 


	2. In Retrospect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Night King Yuuri had watched and admired Day King Viktor for longer than 'Day' was a thing. Yuuri's world was always separate from the world of sunlight and rainbows, but today, Viktor met him in the Sky Court for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Interpretation of the Day and Night AU created by beanpots.tumblr.com  
> When I first wrote for this idea, there wasn't much established for the AU, so this is pretty divergent.  
> I hope every one still enjoys. Thank you.

“Mm. Finally.” And in this first thing that the Night King Yuuri ever said to Viktor—the King of Day, there was a wealth of meaning.

It meant that a bouquet of red roses left on their shared throne in the Sky Court, was cause for such unbridled pleasure that Yuuri had known little about how to handle the fierce beating of his heart. The Viceroy of Dusk, Phichit of the First Night, had been so enthused to tell Yuuri that the bouquet was a symbol of something called _love_. Yuuri had never heard it before, but if it defined the intensity of joy, confusion, and longing as such, then it was a good word. Yuuri finally knew that this must be love.

And because this new word had so become everything that Yuuri had felt for an eternity, he had decided to be brave enough to hold on to the flowers this time. He would not move from the throne. He would wait for the one who had given him this love.

And as that night had progressed, Yuuri reminisced on every instance that had brought Viktor to him.

The orange roses with their pink furls had been pretty in a way that reminded Yuuri of a dream he had, so long ago when he was still a Star Child nestled in the ice and dust of the universe. Back then he had nothing but dreams to keep him company, and in those dreams he saw the array of strange shapes and stuffs that he then had no words to describe. He first saw this same soft pink not on the curl of a rose petal, but on the lips of a Dream Child who had hair like platinum that had trapped pieces of a blue sky.

The Dream Child had danced with passion, but was weighted down to barren lands that then became green and rich beneath his feet. All the things that had sprung up around the Dream Child adored him for his benevolence and cheer. Yuuri had wondered what it was like, to be depended on and needed.

It was then from the pink lips of the Dream Child that Yuuri had learned language. He learned that the Dream Child was named Viktor, that he was a King, and Yuuri discovered so many other words for the world that worshipped sunlight.

Sunlight, like the yellow roses the Day King had first left for Yuuri. He had been so surprised to find a rose out of place. They belonged in the world below the Sky Court, for there simply was no place for plants in the magically flying island of glass and jewels. Caught between the realm of Day and the mirrored expanse of the infinite realm of Night above, the Everlasting Palace had been Yuuri’s creation. When his starry cloak had first overtaken the Light of the World, he had watched the living things below from the throne as they slumbered for the first time.

After what seemed like ages, King Viktor had awoken and quickly fashioned a solar chariot from the light of his crown, pulled by horses of gold and sunshine, fire and air. They had taken Viktor up through Yuuri’s Night and had left a trail of auroras in their wake. It had been such a wonder that Yuuri had captured the auroras in his cloak and pulled them away back to his realm, leaving Light to return as Day.

Now, when Yuuri draped his darkness and constellations across the world, King Viktor would leave the palace to rest, until he returned once again on his chariot. So while no plants grew, certainly no yellow roses, it was better that the palace was made out of immutable star stuff so nothing would burn beneath the horses’ hooves.

Phichit had said that yellow roses meant the giver was showing appreciation. It was the first time that Yuuri had known that feeling—appreciation. It was something that the subjects of Day lavished on their ruler and yet it was not something the subjects of Night had, as busy and silent as they always were.

Yuuri had then cradled each yellow rose so dearly and had not let them go until the Prince of Dawn, Yurio of the Saving Light, heralded the return of Day. Yurio had said that the flower would surely wither if Yuuri took it into the province of Night. It was a true thing, Yurio told, because no living things could follow Yuuri into his realm. So the King of Night had given that rose, and each rose after, into the care of his starlight couriers to take the fragile gifts back to Viktor.

Each rose had made him ponder what it would be like to be invited to the world below.

Each rose had made him speculate about the Day King, once the Dream Child, who he had never spoken to, but knew so well from slumbered imaginings. Whose world he observed from a distance, and that he emulated in the dark expanse overhead with mirrors and woven stardust. Yet in all his wildest suppositions, he had never thought he would earn tokens of appreciation, passion, and love from a being who brought so much life to this one speck in the cosmos.

So when Viktor had advanced down the great hall of the Sky Court to the foot of the throne where Yuuri sat, it had been with awe that the Night King observed so close the majesty of the Day King. Viktor in flowing auric robes and dawn-touched cloak, with strong shoulders bearing puffy clouds, and a determined sky-blue gaze. The heat in Yuuri’s cheeks and the speed of his heart had been almost unbearable, but he had been _captivated_. The red roses in his lap had reminded him why he had to stay.

Viktor’s smile against Yuuri’s hand, softened to a kiss, was then every supernova in the universe going off at once in Yuuri’s soul.

This is what he had always wanted and what he had meant in that one word. Viktor, his love, was finally here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Msgs @ darklilcorner.tumblr.com  
> Thank you everyone for your initial support on the one-shot. Part 2 is a little different, but I really wanted to write it from Yuuri's perspective.

**Author's Note:**

> Msgs @ darklilcorner.tumblr.com


End file.
